(The following is a column which appeared on my old web site, www.spatulacitybbs.com, on September 11th, 2001. It is re-posted now in remembrance of then.

This will very likely be the last time this ever gets posted, as I do intend to close Spatula City sometime next year.)

NOTE: This column contains some coarse language. Back out now if such language offends you, please.

I got four hours of sleep last night. I’m fighting the obligatory yearly case of tonsillitis. My throat hurts like Hell ™, my body is racked with soreness, and – not to put too fine a point thereupon – I’m in need of a tube of Prep H.

You get the idea. (sigh)

So here I am on LBJ Freeway in Dallas, plodding my way through traffic, fighting hard the urge to fall asleep at the wheel, literally. I’m listening to our sports-talk/guy-talk station on AM, the Ticket (KTCK 1310), when the sports jocks there suddenly exclaim something to the effect of, “WTF…?!”. Apparently, a heavy jet has veered off course and slammed into one of the World Trade Center twin towers in New York City.

“Wow,” I’m thinking, “they’ll likely stay with this one all day”, and I immediately turn over to the news/talk station here, WBAP 820, for all the coverage. Yes, I admit it – I’m fascinated by carnage.

At that point, though, I’m thinking tragic accident. Somebody’s plane lost its hydraulics and careened out of control, and the World Trade Center, unfortunately, was simply in the way.

That was 7:50. At 8:09, my worldview – and that of 280 million Americans, I would bet – changed radically.

It’s 8:20 when I get to the office, and I meet my buddy and old Wingtip Courier dispatcher as he’s driving up. He hasn’t been paying attention to anything. We get inside the office, and I bring him and our other compadre up to speed on things (he wasn’t listening to the radio, either, which was surprising). I go into my office and try pulling up a video stream for any of this. It’s 8:25.

Fifteen minutes later, the message is clear: America is under attack for the first time in 60 years. Yet another heavy jet has crashed – this one into the Pentagon. Reports are coming in about multiple hijackings. I’ve read a report about a worldwide alert issued last Friday concerning our resident international terrorist, Osama bin Laden, Two & two are quickly starting to come together.

(Side note: Don’t let them tell you they had no warning. I’m not kidding about that worldwide alert concerning bin Laden. They knew. Damned right they knew.)

(SECOND SIDE NOTE: As I go through the years, I’m less inclined to blame the Bush Administration than I was nine years ago. Sure, they knew it was possible, but all they had was a general warning. Nothing specific that said they were going to do what they did precisely on that day. So the Bush Administration gets a pass from me on this one.

The Demoscum, on the other hand…)

I can’t pull up anything on the ‘Net – and I have a T1 at work. The radio offers some details, but I want to know more. I run across the street to the CompUSSR to scope out the TV images.

And ohmigod – what TV images. I saw the second plane come in behind the first tower, and a plume of fire and deep black smoke explode out the other side. I saw the collapsed side of the Pentagon. I saw both WTC towers collapse – I had to ask someone if they’d collapsed all the way, so incredulous was the scene there. (A third building nearby would collapse six hours later.) I heard reports of yet another plane crash – this one near Pittsburgh. Rumor has it that the plane was headed to Camp David – we’re somewhere around the anniversary of the Camp David accords, so I hear.

Returned to work around 11:00 in a state of near-shock. Twenty minutes later, I received the go-ahead to go home. After a quick stop-off at the school to check on my wife, I arrived home and turned on the TV to Fox.

The images there were even more unbelievable than before. Fox had the direct angle on the second tower hit. They also had better angles on the collapse of both towers – although by that time, there was so much smoke & dust that one could hardly make anything out.

After a quick lunch, I sit down here to gather news stories, and I find this.

That’s right, sports fans. Here are a group of Palestinian squids laughing, dancing and cheering the attack on us, whom they call “the Great Satan”.

Compassionate people, those Palestinians.

Okay, now that I’ve bored you with my day, here’s my analysis: CNN early on was doing everything it could to avoid calling it a terrorist attack. But, Spatulaites & Spatulaettes, it’s too coordinated, too organized to be anything but. These events had to be planned months in advance. Certain people had to be installed at just the right junctures in order to pull this off – our airport security procedures, despite the fact that they’re handled by part-timers making minimum wage, are still way too strict. People who knew how to fly those planes had to arrange for passage on these planes. This would have been a major undertaking for simply one airliner – for four to have been hijacked in this manner and turned into suicide machines screams for the fact that this is more than just a Chinese fire drill.

So. Who’s got the capability to pull it off? Who has the money to train these thugs, place them right where they needed to be placed, and then turned loose? And who among them hates us enough to target us? Not to mention, who’s stupid-assed enough to try it?

If you haven’t figured it out by now, go back to school and take a comprehensive reading course. You think about it, there’s really only one man who qualifies: Osama bin Laden.

There can be no question. The mastermind behind the 1993 bombing at the aforementioned World Trade Center is so consumed with hatred for the United States that it sticks in his craw that he failed to bring us down eight years ago. So he decided to try and finish the job, gambling that we’ll be too chicken-shit to do anything about it.

(Second side note: Yeah, the Palestinians and the Taliban in Afghanistan are denying responsibility. Don’t believe the bastards. This is their baby.)

This is where George W. Bush needs to prove him wrong. Take this one to the bank, my friends: The Bush presidency – whether he believes it or not, whether he likes it or not – rides on how he handles this.

America is screaming for justice. More to the point, America is screaming for revenge. This is nothing short of an act of war. Yes, war. There’s been a formally undeclared one on us now, by most of the non-Israeli countries of the Middle East, for several years now. The Muslims hate our guts. The Syrians, the Iraqis, the Iranians – we’re their enemy. “Death To America” has been cruising at #1 on the Middle Eastern Top 40 for several years. They’re getting bolder, too – because they think we’re too cowardly to fight back. They think we’ve forgotten how to fight.

If George Bush has any balls, now’s the time to prove them wrong.

This is your solution, like it or not: Any country harboring terrorists – that would include Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, Libya, Syria, et. al. – must be wiped from the face of the earth.

Scramble 30 bombers. Five warheads each – six if the plane will hold it. Bomb the shit out of these countries – get rid of these raghead bastards.

So what if you take innocents out, too? This is war, people. They don’t care about killing our innocents; why should we give a shit about theirs??

And that goes for the Palestinians, too. Let’s do Israel a favor and eliminate those sons-of-bitches from the annals of history, as well. They want to laugh and make merry at our misfortune, they need to pay the ultimate price.

Show the world some balls, George W. Teach them that there’s a price for fucking with America. Demonstrate to them that we have not forgotten how to fight!

StarTrek.com is saddened to report the passing of Arlene Martel, who died on August 12 following a heart attack. The veteran television and film actress had a career that spanned parts of seven decades, dating back to the golden age of television, but she was arguably best known for her role as T’Pring in the “Amok Time” episode of Star Trek: The Original Series.

[Korrioth finishes and looks back at the admiral. It is difficult to deal with the news of the death of his mother, even moreso in front of his superior officer. Venomous breaks the silence.]

VENOMOUS: Take whomever you need with you, my friend. Our next mission can wait.

(The following is a column which appeared on my old web site, www.spatulacitybbs.com, on September 11th, 2001. It is re-posted now in remembrance of then.)

NOTE: This column contains some coarse language. Back out now if such language offends you, please.

I got four hours of sleep last night. I’m fighting the obligatory yearly case of tonsillitis. My throat hurts like Hell ™, my body is racked with soreness, and – not to put too fine a point thereupon – I’m in need of a tube of Prep H.

You get the idea. (sigh)

So here I am on LBJ Freeway in Dallas, plodding my way through traffic, fighting hard the urge to fall asleep at the wheel, literally. I’m listening to our sports-talk/guy-talk station on AM, the Ticket (KTCK 1310), when the sports jocks there suddenly exclaim something to the effect of, “WTF…?!”. Apparently, a heavy jet has veered off course and slammed into one of the World Trade Center twin towers in New York City.

“Wow,” I’m thinking, “they’ll likely stay with this one all day”, and I immediately turn over to the news/talk station here, WBAP 820, for all the coverage. Yes, I admit it – I’m fascinated by carnage.

At that point, though, I’m thinking tragic accident. Somebody’s plane lost its hydraulics and careened out of control, and the World Trade Center, unfortunately, was simply in the way.

That was 7:50. At 8:09, my worldview – and that of 280 million Americans, I would bet – changed radically.

It’s 8:20 when I get to the office, and I meet my buddy and old Wingtip Courier dispatcher as he’s driving up. He hasn’t been paying attention to anything. We get inside the office, and I bring him and our other compadre up to speed on things (he wasn’t listening to the radio, either, which was surprising). I go into my office and try pulling up a video stream for any of this. It’s 8:25.

Fifteen minutes later, the message is clear: America is under attack for the first time in 60 years. Yet another heavy jet has crashed – this one into the Pentagon. Reports are coming in about multiple hijackings. I’ve read a report about a worldwide alert issued last Friday concerning our resident international terrorist, Osama bin Laden, Two & two are quickly starting to come together.

(Side note: Don’t let them tell you they had no warning. I’m not kidding about that worldwide alert concerning bin Laden. They knew. Damned right they knew.)

(SECOND SIDE NOTE: As I go through the years, I’m less inclined to blame the Bush Administration than I was nine years ago. Sure, they knew it was possible, but all they had was a general warning. Nothing specific that said they were going to do what they did precisely on that day. So the Bush Administration gets a pass from me on this one.

The Demoscum, on the other hand…)

I can’t pull up anything on the ‘Net – and I have a T1 at work. The radio offers some details, but I want to know more. I run across the street to the CompUSSR to scope out the TV images.

And ohmigod – what TV images. I saw the second plane come in behind the first tower, and a plume of fire and deep black smoke explode out the other side. I saw the collapsed side of the Pentagon. I saw both WTC towers collapse – I had to ask someone if they’d collapsed all the way, so incredulous was the scene there. (A third building nearby would collapse six hours later.) I heard reports of yet another plane crash – this one near Pittsburgh. Rumor has it that the plane was headed to Camp David – we’re somewhere around the anniversary of the Camp David accords, so I hear.

Returned to work around 11:00 in a state of near-shock. Twenty minutes later, I received the go-ahead to go home. After a quick stop-off at the school to check on my wife, I arrived home and turned on the TV to Fox.

The images there were even more unbelievable than before. Fox had the direct angle on the second tower hit. They also had better angles on the collapse of both towers – although by that time, there was so much smoke & dust that one could hardly make anything out.

After a quick lunch, I sit down here to gather news stories, and I find this.

That’s right, sports fans. Here are a group of Palestinian squids laughing, dancing and cheering the attack on us, whom they call “the Great Satan”.

Compassionate people, those Palestinians.

Okay, now that I’ve bored you with my day, here’s my analysis: CNN early on was doing everything it could to avoid calling it a terrorist attack. But, Spatulaites & Spatulaettes, it’s too coordinated, too organized to be anything but. These events had to be planned months in advance. Certain people had to be installed at just the right junctures in order to pull this off – our airport security procedures, despite the fact that they’re handled by part-timers making minimum wage, are still way too strict. People who knew how to fly those planes had to arrange for passage on these planes. This would have been a major undertaking for simply one airliner – for four to have been hijacked in this manner and turned into suicide machines screams for the fact that this is more than just a Chinese fire drill.

So. Who’s got the capability to pull it off? Who has the money to train these thugs, place them right where they needed to be placed, and then turned loose? And who among them hates us enough to target us? Not to mention, who’s stupid-assed enough to try it?

If you haven’t figured it out by now, go back to school and take a comprehensive reading course. You think about it, there’s really only one man who qualifies: Osama bin Laden.

There can be no question. The mastermind behind the 1993 bombing at the aforementioned World Trade Center is so consumed with hatred for the United States that it sticks in his craw that he failed to bring us down eight years ago. So he decided to try and finish the job, gambling that we’ll be too chicken-shit to do anything about it.

(Second side note: Yeah, the Palestinians and the Taliban in Afghanistan are denying responsibility. Don’t believe the bastards. This is their baby.)

This is where George W. Bush needs to prove him wrong. Take this one to the bank, my friends: The Bush presidency – whether he believes it or not, whether he likes it or not – rides on how he handles this.

America is screaming for justice. More to the point, America is screaming for revenge. This is nothing short of an act of war. Yes, war. There’s been a formally undeclared one on us now, by most of the non-Israeli countries of the Middle East, for several years now. The Muslims hate our guts. The Syrians, the Iraqis, the Iranians – we’re their enemy. “Death To America” has been cruising at #1 on the Middle Eastern Top 40 for several years. They’re getting bolder, too – because they think we’re too cowardly to fight back. They think we’ve forgotten how to fight.

If George Bush has any balls, now’s the time to prove them wrong.

This is your solution, like it or not: Any country harboring terrorists – that would include Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, Libya, Syria, et. al. – must be wiped from the face of the earth.

Scramble 30 bombers. Five warheads each – six if the plane will hold it. Bomb the shit out of these countries – get rid of these raghead bastards.

So what if you take innocents out, too? This is war, people. They don’t care about killing our innocents; why should we give a shit about theirs??

And that goes for the Palestinians, too. Let’s do Israel a favor and eliminate those sons-of-bitches from the annals of history, as well. They want to laugh and make merry at our misfortune, they need to pay the ultimate price.

Show the world some balls, George W. Teach them that there’s a price for fucking with America. Demonstrate to them that we have not forgotten how to fight!

You wouldn’t think the death of a character actress would get this kind of notice from Yours Truly – but then, this wasn’t your garden-variety character actress.

Karen Black, an actress whose roles in several signature films of the late 1960s and ’70s included a prostitute who shared an LSD trip with the bikers played by Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda in “Easy Rider” and a waitress unhappily devoted to the alienated musician played by Jack Nicholson in “Five Easy Pieces,” died on Thursday in Los Angeles. She was 74.

The cause was complications of cancer, her husband, Stephen Eckelberry, said. Ms. Black’s battle with ampullary cancer, a rare form similar to pancreatic cancer, became public in March when she and Mr. Eckelberry sought contributions on a fund-raising Web site to pay for an experimental treatment.

Ms. Black began her career as a stage ingénue but was never really the ingénue on the screen. A rangy, imperfect beauty — her eyes were set ever so slightly off-kilter — she spent the better part of a decade as one of the movies’ most vivid character actresses. At a time when the women’s movement was surging, she rarely played the self-liberating woman — as did, say, Ellen Burstyn or Jill Clayburgh — but she was often a brassy, attention-grabbing presence in films whose main characters were men.

I’m sure she was okay in those flicks – but my memory of her was in the disaster flick Airport 1975 – a movie I saw between 25 – 30 times in the theater alone.

And near as I can recall, she was the first woman I ever looked at and thought, “Damn, she’s hawwwwt!!!!!”. (For a pre-teen entering puberty, that’a a milestone event, y’know. )

(And no, I’m not gonna talk about her in Five Easy Pieces, because I never saw that flick. Jack Nicholson ain’t my cup o’ tea.)

StarTrek.com is saddened to report that veteran character actor and iconic Star Trek guest star Michael Ansara passed away on July 31 at the age of 91 following a long illness.

Ansara had a remarkably long and prolific career that spanned from 1944 to 2001 and included Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Broken Arrow (on which he starred as Cochise), The Fugitive, Gunsmoke, I Dream of Jeannie, It’s Alive, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, Fantasy Island, Murder, She Wrote, Babylon 5 and such late-career animated projects as Batman, SubZero, Batman Beyond and his final credit, 2001′s Batman: Vengeance; he voiced Dr. Victor Fries/Mr. Freeze in all of those Batman iterations.

Star Trek fans, of course, embraced Ansara for his performance as the Klingon commander, Kang, in the Star Trek: The Original Series episode “Day of the Dove.” Later, when Star Trek exploded into a cultural phenomenon, Ansara became a favorite at conventions and on cruises. Decades passed and, in 1994, Ansara made a triumphant return to televised Trek, reprising his role as Kang in the Deep Space Nine hour “Blood Oath.” Ansara played Kang yet again in the 1996 Voyager episode “Flashback”…

[Korrioth stares at the padd, a dispassionate look on his face. A low rumble begins in his throat. Then, almost without warning, Korrioth throws his head back and...]

Guys, a lot of you probably aren’t gonna give a rip about this, but it means something to me, for reasons I will explain in a bit.

Radio personality Dave “Kidd” Kraddick, who most recently was heard on KISS 106.1 (KHKS) in Dallas, passed awayabout an hour or so ago earlier today (it was only confirmed a short while ago). He was 53.

The staple of North Texas radio since 1984, he broadcast his nationally syndicated “Kidd Kraddick in the Morning” radio show from a studio at Las Colinas. It aired locally on KISS FM 106.1.

[...]

The cause of his death was not available.

In a bitterly ironic twist, Kraddick did a radio segment just last week on “what he would say to each member of the show in his final moments on earth” as a comedy bit.

“Have you ever thought about those last moments of your life?” he asked his radio crew. “Nobody wants a long, lingering illness; nobody wants just that; but it would be nice if you could have a day or two where you know it’s coming.”

He then spent several minutes saying goodbye to each member of his on-air staff.

“When I die, you have permission to take a bunch of creepy pictures of my body,” Kraddick said. “I want to thank all of you guys for being at my deathbed today. I’m going to miss you so much.”

During the mid-’80s, I was going through a great deal of problem & misery. I was separated (temporarily) from the Wife Of My Youth (i.e, my first one), and I was living in an efficiency apartment not too terribly far from where Realm Headquarters is now. Money was tight, and it wasn’t even my furniture in the apartment, but rather the complex’s.

Kidd was the evening guy at KEGL 97.1, back when it was pretty much Top 40 prior to becoming hard-assed metal, and he was a nightly listen. I mean Monday through Friday, every damned night. Later, he became a daily listen over at the aforementined KHKS, before it became all-sickening-crap, all the time.

I haven’t listened to him in many, many years, but I won’t forget that he helped get me though a lot of nights when I could have gone stir-crazy.

Rest in peace, Kidd. You are already missed, and I mean that most sincerely.

If you’re a veteran – either of a war long past or of one more recently waged – know that I and about 300,000,000 Americans are eternally in your debt. Mere words cannot express the degree of gratitude which we possess for what you have done – and are now doing – for us here at home. Therefore, two words alone will have to suffice:

My years whirl past me. Swirling. Dry, broken grass hovering in a spring breeze. Can I remember my experiences in war? Hardly. Fighting for my country, my youth invested, seems such a long time ago, and so unimportant. The calendar this year marks Memorial Day on the 29th of May, 2000. Have I lost something? The traditional Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, is on the 30th of May. This observed Memorial Day on May 29th coincidentally allows for a national three day holiday. Such is commercialism’s capitalistic American display. But why do I feel so stricken, like I have abandoned old friends from long ago? Their ghosts consort with my floating years, and their spirits coast around my presence.

Another three day holiday! Memorial Day! Maybe me and the kids can go camping? Or, to the beach? Memorial Day is fun! This is the inconsiderate, thoughtless approach to this meaningful, and consecrated moment representing one three hundred and sixty-fifth of our year. What is the meaning of Memorial Day? Is it merely a three day escape from our worldly duties? Or, is it the official beginning of summer? Is selling more hot dogs at the ballpark the overriding clarification?

Many souls, sacrificed in war, in duty to America, are wandering. They drift in a heavenly place, minus their future here upon earth. Tomorrows were forfeited. Given up so our nation would invigorate free souls, aspire them to freedom, and justly allow their lives lived as they prefer. Raising offspring above restrictions, as they desire. Those lost lives giving we, the living, what we want freely. Those are the souls we respect on Memorial Day. This means it is a sacred day.

Without retrospect, sacrifice is mute. Old Glory does not wave by accident. It flutters in the spring air revealing honor. The color red represents the blood bloom from those who fell, those who clawed, those who cried in horrible pain. Those who died fast. And, those who died ever so slowly. They did their duty. When I see Old Glory waving on a sunny, end of May day, the pigment red gushes from millions of souls, floating, not with us, anymore. They are amongst our heroes, cajoling with angels with their champions, conquerors and commanders. Friends and loved ones gather, over the grave, witness to those who gave more than anyone should be required to relinquish. They did not want to yield. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when the moment harshly struck them their fatal blow, they cried for their mother, or their friend. Then there were those, many of those, who knew exactly what they were giving. They moved forward knowingly. They lost their lives so their mission would be accomplished.

Fools! Some intellects can say that. One would have to be an imbecile to give up life, no matter what the cause. For a flag? Futile! For a country! More pointless! For freedom! What freedom is there in mortality? Yes, fools they may have been, but their numbers add up in an awesome display of American loss! Veterans’ Cemeteries, white badges sailing row after row after row upon green grass, almost never ending, creeping onto the horizon. Constant reminders of the devastation of our human treasure. Mothers’ tears, enough to fill an ocean to overflow. Sweethearts, broken hearted, reading telegrams. Sons and daughters, many unborn, wakening at birth to a devastated family suffering from a victim of war there no more. And what does all this macabre math equal? Memorial Day is the correct answer.

Few Americans know a person who died in war. Their family trees have lost some leaves, falling as they fought in one of America’s wars, or discarded in the peacetime military. We are a busy people. We have business to capture. Our kids are in school. We have chores. Mundane, or surrealistic. We are a spirited society, seeking applications to improve ourselves and our communities. We are a helpful populace, always there when the going gets tough to help those who have suffered the tragedies of nature, whether a hurricane or a famine. Americans are always the first on the scene worldwide bearing their gifts of human spirit and abundance. This is why it is so puzzling that the meaning of Memorial Day seems to lack substance to many of our own people. Even with the day itself. Put back to accommodate a holiday schedule fixed by some organism no one knows, yet powerful enough to do so, the day itself lacks consequence to too many. Many who never knew a person who died in service to America are wrought with the invisible pain of not feeling for those who do.

Americans take things for granted. We have so much. So very much. Endless choices. These options are not available worldwide. Our shelves are full. Unlike many in other nations of the world. So many are empty or offer very limited selections. Those American fighting men and women killed in battle whose souls are floating actually made available these wondrous choices we have every day of our American lives. Yet, most of our youngsters have no idea whatsoever what this means. They don’t learn this in school. We must teach them. For without knowledge, they may end up thinking, or believing, all these marvelous selections came without circumstance. Minus anything. Equaling no meaning.

Our nation needs to halt and perceive the flags and flowers on our Veterans graves on this consecrated holiday. We need to lift a common voice of adoration to those floating spirits of our onetime American Warriors, and extol them with a salutation. We have not come that far with our technological miracles of this millennium to become crass. We still need respect. Our backs can not turn from formality. Our eyes can not look away from custom. Our voices must not resonate in silence against honor and glory. To do so will leave us hollow, only to fill us with that which is desolate and lacking potential. This is not the true meaning of Memorial Day.

The heartfelt significance requires reminding. Story telling. Wisdom being passed on from our Veterans to our younger generations. An interpretation certified by those who remember the horrors of war. Without this core, our society can not remain genuine. It becomes contemptible. It rots from within. These floating souls of our lost American Warriors are a powerful force, for they live within our hearts. They constantly seek justification for their contributions, and they are real within us. Such is what our American substance stands for, where character is developed, individually is guaranteed, and a community, a nation, survives.

America enters the 21th Century as the most powerful entity humankind has ever experienced. America permeates this next century with vast responsibilities. Our children must bear this promise. We can not turn our backs on these bygone descendants, nor can we do so upon ourselves. Memorial Day offers us the opportunity to express a moment of solitude where each of us can personify in our own way what we feel. I only speak for my myself, as one who has bared his soul to the dread of war. So my father did, and his father’s father before him, and their souls float amongst the multitudes. My mother and her mother held their Veterans after they returned from war, tears streaming down their cheeks in gratitude for their safe return. And there were those in my ancestry who did not return from war. And their mothers’ tears soaked the pillows on beds for generations to sleep upon. Their souls are the dreams that drift amongst the floating, gathering at the end of May in the breeze of summer’s coming, in the cool glass of lemonade at the child’s street side stand, in the cheers at the ball game from the crowd rooting their team to victory and enjoying the best hot dogs in the world.

Let us all stop for a moment, whether it is on the traditional day, or the observed Memorial Day, or even at the end of May, and reach for those floating souls. Let us reveal to them how much we cherish their sacrifice for our free people. Let these memories harvest our recognition of the meaning of Memorial Day in a very simple wordy. And let that word, simply stated be: Thanks.

(copyrighted 2000)

(Permission to reproduce granted freely and unconditionally)

PEACE,
Bobby Ross

bobbyros@nashville.net

http://www.nashville.net/~bobbyros/webtv.html

medallion.webzine.cc

http://community-2.webtv.net/lanebrody/VETERANSDAYSPECIAL/

A-TRACKMUSIC.COM
11 Music Square East
Suite #501
Nashville, TN 37203

A Proud Supporter of FARM AID!
Office 615 244-8725
SPLASH 2000!

SALUTE TO AMERICAN VETERANS, THEIR FAMILIES AND FRIENDS ON
MEMORIAL DAY AND VETERANS DAY

The Realm is in mourning today as we learn of the passing of the Iron Lady. Former United Kingdom Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher is dead at the age of 87.

She was a trailblazer who at first believed trailblazing impossible: Thatcher told the Liverpool Daily Post in 1974 that she did not think a woman would serve as party leader or prime minister during her lifetime.

But once in power, she never showed an ounce of doubt.

Thatcher could be intimidating to those working for her:

British diplomats sighed with relief on her first official visit to Washington D.C. as prime minister to find that she was relaxed enough to enjoy a glass of whiskey and a half-glass of wine during an embassy lunch, according to official documents.

Like her close friend and political ally Ronald Reagan, Thatcher seemed motivated by an unshakable belief that free markets would build a better country than reliance on a strong, central government. Another thing she shared with the American president: a tendency to reduce problems to their basics, choose a path, and follow it to the end, no matter what the opposition.

She formed a deep attachment to the man she called “Ronnie” — some spoke of it as a schoolgirl crush. Still, she would not back down when she disagreed with him on important matters, even though the United States was the richer and vastly stronger partner in the so-called “special relationship.”

You had a special relationship with the American people too, Maggie. We miss you terribly already.

This came from the keyboard of the lovely & gracious Mrs. M of the Rott. It’s worth your time to read it, because I said so.

It’s been a couple of days since that horrible shooting in Connecticut. As per usual, when something of this nature takes place, there are screams of outrage about what the killer chose to use to commit his horrible crime. Lets blame the guns.

When are people going to suck it up and start looking at why the shooter decided to do what he did, and what brought him to that point in the first place? Does it really matter what he used? How about we as a society start doing some soul searching as to how we are raising our children to become killers? Of course that’s not pretty or comfortable, so instead we want to blame inanimate objects for our crimes. What are we doing now, that wasn’t being done 30-40 years ago, when this sort of thing was unheard of. What are we not doing now, that was done 30-40 years ago when we didn’t have to look over our shoulders at everyone, wondering if they were planning to kill. Could it be that our “enlightened” way of being, our grand experiment of “if it feels good do it” way of life, and our total disrespect for each other and the sanctity of life is a total failure and blowing up in our faces??

We allow Hollywood and the media to bombard us with sexual images, violence and a complete disrespect for privacy and life in general. We allow the Government to dictate to us how our children should be raised and educated. When parents are faced with a behavior they don’t want to deal with, we allow the children to be placed on behavior altering (and in many cases mind altering) drugs without any thought as to the consequences. We’ve allowed our children to be exposed to some of the most horrid circumstances imaginable. We no longer blink when a 14 year old becomes pregnant. It’s just routine. We don’t think that children being born to a woman with multiple children with multiple fathers (most all of whom are completely absent from the children’s lives) is wrong. Children are being left to their own devices, forced to make it on their own, and we wonder why so many end up in gangs, on drugs, and turning violent. Even the kids who are living in “normal” homes are left to figure things out on their own. Parents think discipline is bad. They are under the impression that children will learn right from wrong on their own. They would rather hand the kids an Ipod, Ipad, a Wii, computer and a wifi connection and they don’t have to bother being parents. Just let the electronics and Youtube teach our children how to grow up. Self respect and respect for others is just old fashioned. We can’t mention the word Morals, because *gasp* that’s a “Religious” thing.

When did respect for life, respect for one’s self, respect for other people, knowing right from wrong, and obeying parents and the law become strictly a “Religious thing”??? And we wonder why kids are so screwed up?

Children are being sexualized and exploited from the moment they are born (when we even allow them to be born in the first place) and we seem to believe they are mentally and emotionally capable of handling it. We no longer want to protect our children’s innocence. That requires parents to actually be the adults and make the effort to know, see, and observe all our children are being exposed to. Parents are being led to believe that they have no responsibilities in raising their children. Let the Government, the schools and the media do that for them. Yeah Hollywood and Washington have a wonderful track record of turning out fine, upstanding, moral, responsible people right??

Children used to look up to people like Neal Armstrong and Charles Lindbergh, Jacques Cousteau, Alan Shepard, John Wayne. Those were the people our kids wanted to emulate. Now…

Well now it’s Honey Boo Boo, Kim Kardashian, Snookie, Lady Gaga, Tupac Shakur, and Jay-Z who are the “heroes”…and we think that’s progress???

So go ahead and blame guns. That will make you feel so much better than having to admit that Society itself has to bear much more of the blame.

It’s a sad beginning, Denizens, to this episode of the Perfect Football Weekend, as we bid a tearful farewell to the greatest UTexas coach of all time. Darrell K. Royal was 88.

Royal, 88, died Wednesday in Austin but left behind legions of admirers from both sides of the Red River and across the country. At the height of his coaching career, Royal ranked “right up there with the Alamo” in terms of Texas icons, said Dan Jenkins, a renowned author and sportswriter from Fort Worth who serves as the official historian of the National Football Foundation’s College Football Hall of Fame.

Jenkins, a TCU graduate, covered Royal’s teams for both the Fort Worth Press and Sports Illustrated. He watched Royal fashion a 167-47-5 record in 20 seasons with the Longhorns (1957-76), claiming national championships in 1963, 1969 and 1970.

“If you did a Mount Rushmore with the faces of college football people from Texas, Darrell would be on there,” Jenkins said. “[SMU's] Doak Walker would be one. [TCU's] Sam Baugh would be one. The fourth person, you could take your choice. But those three are inarguable.”

He will be sorely missed.

Now to the football. At the moment, my Arlington Heights Yellow Jackets actually made a game of it before falling late to Granbury, 27-31. Expect excuse-for-a-head-coach Todd Whitten to be reassigned in the coming weeks.

Tomorrow evening, Gary Patterson’s TCU Horned Frogs will host second-ranked Kansas State at Amon Carter in Fort Worth. The purple team will win.

Tomorrow afternoon, Bob Stoops’ 12th-ranked Oklahoma Sooners get to feast on Baylor’s cubbies at Norman. Artie Briles is finding out that life isn’t all that good without overrated hypemeister ARRRRRR GEEEEEEEE THREEEEEEEE!!!!!1!!ELEVENTY!!!1!!!, and OU should be no exception. Baylor can carve up the Sooner defense, but the reverse is more than true, and Vegas likes OU at home by 21½.

A PFW by Executive Fiat is on the line tomorrow as the Penn State Pussies visit Lincoln to face Bo Pelini’s 16th-ranked Nebraska Cornhuskers. The Huskers are a 9-point favorite at Memorial, and I like them to cover.

Bucky travels to Hoosierville tomorrow to run roughshod over Indiana U. The Badgers are a seven-point favorite on the road – and, even as bad as they’ve been this year, they should cover this.

In the FCS (aka Division I-AA), Turner Gill’s Liberty Flames will face Big South leader Stony Brook. I’m putting a SpatulaLine of 30 on this one – Stony Brook’s 9-1, and will probably do to Liberty what fiddy-million shitheads did to liberty on Tuesday – namely, rip it to shreds.

Sunday, El Choko & the Cowgirlz go for three in a row – losses, that is – as they travel to Pussydelphia to take on the Beagles. Phucky’s offensive line has been just that – offensive – recently, letting the Saints at one point last week sack Mikey “Woof!” Vick three straight times.

Of course, any woes the Beagles have been undergoing recently will all be cured when Rob Ryan’s Folly comes to town. I’m calling Phucky in a squash.

We’re back Monday (I hope) for the recap. In the meantime, my question for HDD this week is…would you rather have Bucky’s O-line, or the Beagles’?

(The following is a column which appeared on my old web site, www.spatulacitybbs.com, on September 11th, 2001. It is re-posted now in remembrance of then.)

NOTE: This column contains some coarse language. Back out now if such language offends you, please.

I got four hours of sleep last night. I’m fighting the obligatory yearly case of tonsillitis. My throat hurts like Hell ™, my body is racked with soreness, and – not to put too fine a point thereupon – I’m in need of a tube of Prep H.

You get the idea. (sigh)

So here I am on LBJ Freeway in Dallas, plodding my way through traffic, fighting hard the urge to fall asleep at the wheel, literally. I’m listening to our sports-talk/guy-talk station on AM, the Ticket (KTCK 1310), when the sports jocks there suddenly exclaim something to the effect of, “WTF…?!”. Apparently, a heavy jet has veered off course and slammed into one of the World Trade Center twin towers in New York City.

“Wow,” I’m thinking, “they’ll likely stay with this one all day”, and I immediately turn over to the news/talk station here, WBAP 820, for all the coverage. Yes, I admit it – I’m fascinated by carnage.

At that point, though, I’m thinking tragic accident. Somebody’s plane lost its hydraulics and careened out of control, and the World Trade Center, unfortunately, was simply in the way.

That was 7:50. At 8:09, my worldview – and that of 280 million Americans, I would bet – changed radically.

It’s 8:20 when I get to the office, and I meet my buddy and old Wingtip Courier dispatcher as he’s driving up. He hasn’t been paying attention to anything. We get inside the office, and I bring him and our other compadre up to speed on things (he wasn’t listening to the radio, either, which was surprising). I go into my office and try pulling up a video stream for any of this. It’s 8:25.

Fifteen minutes later, the message is clear: America is under attack for the first time in 60 years. Yet another heavy jet has crashed – this one into the Pentagon. Reports are coming in about multiple hijackings. I’ve read a report about a worldwide alert issued last Friday concerning our resident international terrorist, Osama bin Laden, Two & two are quickly starting to come together.

(Side note: Don’t let them tell you they had no warning. I’m not kidding about that worldwide alert concerning bin Laden. They knew. Damned right they knew.)

(SECOND SIDE NOTE: As I go through the years, I’m less inclined to blame the Bush Administration than I was nine years ago. Sure, they knew it was possible, but all they had was a general warning. Nothing specific that said they were going to do what they did precisely on that day. So the Bush Administration gets a pass from me on this one.

The Demoscum, on the other hand…)

I can’t pull up anything on the ‘Net – and I have a T1 at work. The radio offers some details, but I want to know more. I run across the street to the CompUSSR to scope out the TV images.

And ohmigod – what TV images. I saw the second plane come in behind the first tower, and a plume of fire and deep black smoke explode out the other side. I saw the collapsed side of the Pentagon. I saw both WTC towers collapse – I had to ask someone if they’d collapsed all the way, so incredulous was the scene there. (A third building nearby would collapse six hours later.) I heard reports of yet another plane crash – this one near Pittsburgh. Rumor has it that the plane was headed to Camp David – we’re somewhere around the anniversary of the Camp David accords, so I hear.

Returned to work around 11:00 in a state of near-shock. Twenty minutes later, I received the go-ahead to go home. After a quick stop-off at the school to check on my wife, I arrived home and turned on the TV to Fox.

The images there were even more unbelievable than before. Fox had the direct angle on the second tower hit. They also had better angles on the collapse of both towers – although by that time, there was so much smoke & dust that one could hardly make anything out.

After a quick lunch, I sit down here to gather news stories, and I find this.

That’s right, sports fans. Here are a group of Palestinian squids laughing, dancing and cheering the attack on us, whom they call “the Great Satan”.

Compassionate people, those Palestinians.

Okay, now that I’ve bored you with my day, here’s my analysis: CNN early on was doing everything it could to avoid calling it a terrorist attack. But, Spatulaites & Spatulaettes, it’s too coordinated, too organized to be anything but. These events had to be planned months in advance. Certain people had to be installed at just the right junctures in order to pull this off – our airport security procedures, despite the fact that they’re handled by part-timers making minimum wage, are still way too strict. People who knew how to fly those planes had to arrange for passage on these planes. This would have been a major undertaking for simply one airliner – for four to have been hijacked in this manner and turned into suicide machines screams for the fact that this is more than just a Chinese fire drill.

So. Who’s got the capability to pull it off? Who has the money to train these thugs, place them right where they needed to be placed, and then turned loose? And who among them hates us enough to target us? Not to mention, who’s stupid-assed enough to try it?

If you haven’t figured it out by now, go back to school and take a comprehensive reading course. You think about it, there’s really only one man who qualifies: Osama bin Laden.

There can be no question. The mastermind behind the 1993 bombing at the aforementioned World Trade Center is so consumed with hatred for the United States that it sticks in his craw that he failed to bring us down eight years ago. So he decided to try and finish the job, gambling that we’ll be too chicken-shit to do anything about it.

(Second side note: Yeah, the Palestinians and the Taliban in Afghanistan are denying responsibility. Don’t believe the bastards. This is their baby.)

This is where George W. Bush needs to prove him wrong. Take this one to the bank, my friends: The Bush presidency – whether he believes it or not, whether he likes it or not – rides on how he handles this.

America is screaming for justice. More to the point, America is screaming for revenge. This is nothing short of an act of war. Yes, war. There’s been a formally undeclared one on us now, by most of the non-Israeli countries of the Middle East, for several years now. The Muslims hate our guts. The Syrians, the Iraqis, the Iranians – we’re their enemy. “Death To America” has been cruising at #1 on the Middle Eastern Top 40 for several years. They’re getting bolder, too – because they think we’re too cowardly to fight back. They think we’ve forgotten how to fight.

If George Bush has any balls, now’s the time to prove them wrong.

This is your solution, like it or not: Any country harboring terrorists – that would include Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, Libya, Syria, et. al. – must be wiped from the face of the earth.

Scramble 30 bombers. Five warheads each – six if the plane will hold it. Bomb the shit out of these countries – get rid of these raghead bastards.

So what if you take innocents out, too? This is war, people. They don’t care about killing our innocents; why should we give a shit about theirs??

And that goes for the Palestinians, too. Let’s do Israel a favor and eliminate those sons-of-bitches from the annals of history, as well. They want to laugh and make merry at our misfortune, they need to pay the ultimate price.

Show the world some balls, George W. Teach them that there’s a price for fucking with America. Demonstrate to them that we have not forgotten how to fight!

25 years ago yesterday, the great Ronaldus Magnus (a little Rush lingo, there) gave the greatest speech of the 20th century. (Yes, greater than FDR”S “Fear Itself”, and greater than JFK’s “Ask Not”.)

“General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”

If you’re a veteran – either of a war long past or of one more recently waged – know that I and about 300,000,000 Americans are eternally in your debt. Mere words cannot express the degree of gratitude which we possess for what you have done – and are now doing – for us here at home. Therefore, two words alone will have to suffice:

My years whirl past me. Swirling. Dry, broken grass hovering in a spring breeze. Can I remember my experiences in war? Hardly. Fighting for my country, my youth invested, seems such a long time ago, and so unimportant. The calendar this year marks Memorial Day on the 29th of May, 2000. Have I lost something? The traditional Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, is on the 30th of May. This observed Memorial Day on May 29th coincidentally allows for a national three day holiday. Such is commercialism’s capitalistic American display. But why do I feel so stricken, like I have abandoned old friends from long ago? Their ghosts consort with my floating years, and their spirits coast around my presence.

Another three day holiday! Memorial Day! Maybe me and the kids can go camping? Or, to the beach? Memorial Day is fun! This is the inconsiderate, thoughtless approach to this meaningful, and consecrated moment representing one three hundred and sixty-fifth of our year. What is the meaning of Memorial Day? Is it merely a three day escape from our worldly duties? Or, is it the official beginning of summer? Is selling more hot dogs at the ballpark the overriding clarification?

Many souls, sacrificed in war, in duty to America, are wandering. They drift in a heavenly place, minus their future here upon earth. Tomorrows were forfeited. Given up so our nation would invigorate free souls, aspire them to freedom, and justly allow their lives lived as they prefer. Raising offspring above restrictions, as they desire. Those lost lives giving we, the living, what we want freely. Those are the souls we respect on Memorial Day. This means it is a sacred day.

Without retrospect, sacrifice is mute. Old Glory does not wave by accident. It flutters in the spring air revealing honor. The color red represents the blood bloom from those who fell, those who clawed, those who cried in horrible pain. Those who died fast. And, those who died ever so slowly. They did their duty. When I see Old Glory waving on a sunny, end of May day, the pigment red gushes from millions of souls, floating, not with us, anymore. They are amongst our heroes, cajoling with angels with their champions, conquerors and commanders. Friends and loved ones gather, over the grave, witness to those who gave more than anyone should be required to relinquish. They did not want to yield. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when the moment harshly struck them their fatal blow, they cried for their mother, or their friend. Then there were those, many of those, who knew exactly what they were giving. They moved forward knowingly. They lost their lives so their mission would be accomplished.

Fools! Some intellects can say that. One would have to be an imbecile to give up life, no matter what the cause. For a flag? Futile! For a country! More pointless! For freedom! What freedom is there in mortality? Yes, fools they may have been, but their numbers add up in an awesome display of American loss! Veterans’ Cemeteries, white badges sailing row after row after row upon green grass, almost never ending, creeping onto the horizon. Constant reminders of the devastation of our human treasure. Mothers’ tears, enough to fill an ocean to overflow. Sweethearts, broken hearted, reading telegrams. Sons and daughters, many unborn, wakening at birth to a devastated family suffering from a victim of war there no more. And what does all this macabre math equal? Memorial Day is the correct answer.

Few Americans know a person who died in war. Their family trees have lost some leaves, falling as they fought in one of America’s wars, or discarded in the peacetime military. We are a busy people. We have business to capture. Our kids are in school. We have chores. Mundane, or surrealistic. We are a spirited society, seeking applications to improve ourselves and our communities. We are a helpful populace, always there when the going gets tough to help those who have suffered the tragedies of nature, whether a hurricane or a famine. Americans are always the first on the scene worldwide bearing their gifts of human spirit and abundance. This is why it is so puzzling that the meaning of Memorial Day seems to lack substance to many of our own people. Even with the day itself. Put back to accommodate a holiday schedule fixed by some organism no one knows, yet powerful enough to do so, the day itself lacks consequence to too many. Many who never knew a person who died in service to America are wrought with the invisible pain of not feeling for those who do.

Americans take things for granted. We have so much. So very much. Endless choices. These options are not available worldwide. Our shelves are full. Unlike many in other nations of the world. So many are empty or offer very limited selections. Those American fighting men and women killed in battle whose souls are floating actually made available these wondrous choices we have every day of our American lives. Yet, most of our youngsters have no idea whatsoever what this means. They don’t learn this in school. We must teach them. For without knowledge, they may end up thinking, or believing, all these marvelous selections came without circumstance. Minus anything. Equaling no meaning.

Our nation needs to halt and perceive the flags and flowers on our Veterans graves on this consecrated holiday. We need to lift a common voice of adoration to those floating spirits of our onetime American Warriors, and extol them with a salutation. We have not come that far with our technological miracles of this millennium to become crass. We still need respect. Our backs can not turn from formality. Our eyes can not look away from custom. Our voices must not resonate in silence against honor and glory. To do so will leave us hollow, only to fill us with that which is desolate and lacking potential. This is not the true meaning of Memorial Day.

The heartfelt significance requires reminding. Story telling. Wisdom being passed on from our Veterans to our younger generations. An interpretation certified by those who remember the horrors of war. Without this core, our society can not remain genuine. It becomes contemptible. It rots from within. These floating souls of our lost American Warriors are a powerful force, for they live within our hearts. They constantly seek justification for their contributions, and they are real within us. Such is what our American substance stands for, where character is developed, individually is guaranteed, and a community, a nation, survives.

America enters the 21th Century as the most powerful entity humankind has ever experienced. America permeates this next century with vast responsibilities. Our children must bear this promise. We can not turn our backs on these bygone descendants, nor can we do so upon ourselves. Memorial Day offers us the opportunity to express a moment of solitude where each of us can personify in our own way what we feel. I only speak for my myself, as one who has bared his soul to the dread of war. So my father did, and his father’s father before him, and their souls float amongst the multitudes. My mother and her mother held their Veterans after they returned from war, tears streaming down their cheeks in gratitude for their safe return. And there were those in my ancestry who did not return from war. And their mothers’ tears soaked the pillows on beds for generations to sleep upon. Their souls are the dreams that drift amongst the floating, gathering at the end of May in the breeze of summer’s coming, in the cool glass of lemonade at the child’s street side stand, in the cheers at the ball game from the crowd rooting their team to victory and enjoying the best hot dogs in the world.

Let us all stop for a moment, whether it is on the traditional day, or the observed Memorial Day, or even at the end of May, and reach for those floating souls. Let us reveal to them how much we cherish their sacrifice for our free people. Let these memories harvest our recognition of the meaning of Memorial Day in a very simple wordy. And let that word, simply stated be: Thanks.

(copyrighted 2000)

(Permission to reproduce granted freely and unconditionally)

PEACE,
Bobby Ross

bobbyros@nashville.net

http://www.nashville.net/~bobbyros/webtv.html

medallion.webzine.cc

http://community-2.webtv.net/lanebrody/VETERANSDAYSPECIAL/

A-TRACKMUSIC.COM
11 Music Square East
Suite #501
Nashville, TN 37203

A Proud Supporter of FARM AID!
Office 615 244-8725
SPLASH 2000!

SALUTE TO AMERICAN VETERANS, THEIR FAMILIES AND FRIENDS ON
MEMORIAL DAY AND VETERANS DAY

It helps, though, if you have Microsoft Internet Explorer set about 1024x768 1280x1024 with your Favorites window activated on the left deactivated. (At least until I can get a better handle on how WordPress works.)